Unrequited
by celticprincess93
Summary: When you've hurt someone you love, what would you do for forgiveness? AU fic, ignore season2!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Run!!!!"

The gang sprinted for their lives as the thundering of hooves drew closer. The wind whipped past, bitterly cold, as their feet crunched on the late autumn leaves. Their time living in the forest meant they were fast, but no man can outrun a horse, no matter how hard he tries, how fast his feet carry him. They reached a clearing, and instinctively, as one, the outlaws scattered, and threw themselves into hiding places, praying for the best, breathing hard, hearts pounding.

The horses stopped, and Much could see the feet of a solider dismounting. His breathing got heavier and eyes wider as he realised the solider was heading straight towards him, and too late he realised his scarf had come off and was lying directly in front of the hole he was currently crouched in. He watched in horror as the solider got to his knees to pick it up.

"Please don't look up; please don't look up, please…" Too late. The solider had seen him. A triumphant

sneer spread across the soldier's face as he realised that he had caught one of Robin Hood's men. He yanked Much out of his hiding place and dragged him to the clearing, his sword at Much's throat. The other guards laughed and clapped, while the solider who had Much shouted out into the surrounding forest.

"We've got your little friend, Hood! Reveal yourself, or we slit his throat".

"Bugger." Allen muttered to himself.

"What do we do now?"

Why was it always bloody Much? Every single bloody time.

Breathing slowly but steadily, Robin cocked his bow, ready to aim. He had one chance, and it was a difficult shot. He could see the desperate look on Much's face, and didn't have to see the others to know exactly what they would be thinking – if he missed this, Much was finished. His arrow was cocked, and he was about to shoot, when a knife came flying out of nowhere, narrowly avoiding Much, but hitting the solider square in the shoulder. He cried out in pain and stumbled backwards, as Much scrambled away, and the other outlaws looked around in confusion. The source of this confusion leaped out of the branches of a 15 foot oak tree, and landed lightly on the ground, scaring the soldiers out of their wits. The figure stood, wearing a long cloak with a large hood concealing their identity and a mask over the lower half of their face, in the centre of the clearing, holding himself like a king. Shoulders down, back as straight as an arrow, gloved hands resting on knives in their belt.

Much used this lack of concentration to try sneaking away, but one of the guards noticed, and suddenly the guards seemed to regain control of themselves, and within seconds had the figure surrounded. One grabbed Much again, but looked as if he was scared to share the same fate as his comrade, who was lying on they ground, holding his shoulder and groaning in pain as blood dribbled through his fingers. Suddenly the hooded figure spoke, the voice clear and strong.

"Let him go"

The soldier holding Much was visibly trying to arrange his face into a commanding look, and failing miserably.

"Absolutely not. This man is a criminal."

"Let him go now, or I will have no choice but to force you."

The men seemed to have forgotten that they were frightened, now they were over their initial shock, and faced with an enemy roughly the size a teenage boy. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?"

One of the soldiers crept carefully up behind the figure, clearly going to attack from behind. The outlaws watched in fascination and amazement as the hooded figure spun around, grabbed the mans wrist and threw him to the floor. It was like a challenge to the soldiers, and they drew their swords and began to attack, seemingly forgetting Much, letting him hobble away on what looked like a nastily injured foot. From their various hiding places, the outlaws watched as the figure drew two swords and, moving as quick as lightning, cut every single soldier down. Who ever it was killed no one, just wounded them enough to be immobile. It was over within minutes, until the mysterious figure was left standing there, surrounded by the wounded, groaning soldiers lying in the dirt.

Taking their cue from Robin, the gang slowly emerged, surrounding the figure, apart from Robin himself, who had gone over to Much –currently lying dazed on the floor, as if he couldn't quite figure out what had just happened. Allan put his bow to the hooded head, wary of anyone, especially someone who'd just taken on a dozen soldiers and won, and immediately got knocked out in return. The swift movement caused the figure's hood to fall, and the mask was pulled down, revealing, to Will and John's amazement, a beautiful, dark haired young woman. She could only have been 18, and looked up at them fiercely, before her brow furrowed in recognition. Before they had time to do anything more than stare in shock, Robin came running up behind them, Much in tow.

"Well, well, well, what do we have…" He stopped, suddenly, when he caught sight of the girl. Suddenly, it was if the others didn't exist. Robin and the girl stared at each other, lost in their own world. The emotions playing across the girls face were as clear as day, in contrast to her previously passive expression. Astonishment melted into horror, which melted then into disbelief. Robin looked at her in disbelief. He felt as though the very ground underneath his feet was giving way. The girl, shaking, stepped back.

"Evie?"

Robins whisper was barely audible. The girl turned and ran, disappearing into the trees. Robin stood shell-shocked for a moment, but quickly regained his senses. He gave chase.

You could have cut the tension with a knife. Sympathy radiated from every single soldier, as they watched the youngest and most inexperienced of them standing, terrified, in the sheriff's firing line. The young soldier had naively informed the sheriff that they had almost caught Robin Hood and his gang, and the others knew from experience that the forced grin stretched on the sheriff's face was a very bad sign.

"Almost? As in, 'I had one of his men in my hands, with a knife to his throat, and _he got away?_" The soldier, Robert, was shaking, looking any where but at the sheriff. He'd only taken the job to prove to his brother Jacob he was brave enough – it was well known that it was one of the most dangerous jobs a man could do, and that was without the outlaws. Your boss was the one you should be scared of.

"Tell me, why exactly did you feel the need to waste my time telling me this? Hum?" He slid off the desk he had been perched on, and came nose to nose with Robert, who was by now shaking so violently, it was a miracle he was still standing.

"I am going to say this once, and once only." His voice was dangerously quiet, and he paused for full dramatic effect, before screaming into the youngsters' petrified face.

"I do not want to see your little weasel face until you have Robin Hood himself tied up and sitting in my dungeon. I have no interest in your pathetic little stories about how you _almost_ captured Robin Hood – you've mistaken me for someone who cares. Get out!"

Robert stumbled backwards, as if from the force of the sheriff's words, and backed out of the room, followed swiftly by the rest of the guards, who definitely did not want to be in the room if he flared up again. Guy, who had been watching the scene with amusement, stood up from where he'd been leaning, arms crossed, against the wall.

"My Lord, if the gossip around the castle is to be believed, Hood had some sort of assistance from some boy…"

"Oh, shut up Gisbourne. I am sick of hearing that mans name! Just go and…do…something…" The sheriff sank back into his seat, waved Guy away with a careless hand, and got down to the business that was really worrying – the letter in his hand. He sat for a while reading and rereading, tapping his teeth with his quill, the cogs in his head slowly turning, until he smiled, an idea occurring to him. He sat up, and began writing a reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Hey, Will, slow down!"

Allan bent down, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. If there was one thing he hated about being an outlaw, living in the forest….well, it was more than one, but he hated, hated, _hated_ running. He was always running, always had done, always would do, and he was insanely jealous of Will and Robin, who could seemingly run for miles without breaking into a sweat.

"What?"

"Alright, I'm not bein' funny, but we've been out here for hours looking for this kid, and it's getting dark. I mean, we don't even know who she is! What's the point?"

Will turned to look at him, also gasping for air, though not quite as much as Allan, who was almost on his knees.

"Allan, you didn't see the look on Robin's face when he saw her. He obviously knows her, he told us to find her, however long it took. And, I don't know what it is, but I recognise her from somewhere." Will was confused, but intrigued. He desperately wanted to know who could cause such an odd reaction in Robin, and he had a nagging sensation that he'd seen her before, but…different somehow.

"Oh that's great. William Daniel Scarlett _vaguely _recognises someone, which is a brilliant reason to go running round the forest on an empty stomach, interrupting what we were doing,-".

Will carried on walking, focusing most of his attention on looking for the girl, and not giving much thought to the grumbling coming from behind him.

"As far as I remember, _what we were doing_ was hiding, with Much about to get his throat slit, when _this kid_ came and saved us."

"Rubbish. Robin was handling it!"

"Oh, you're just upset 'cause a girl took you out" The look of utter indignation on Allan's face made Will snigger despite himself.

"What! I am not upset! And she did not take me out! I swear-"

He was silenced when Will suddenly looked round, and put a finger to his lips warningly. Allan opened his mouth again, but before he could start arguing, Will was silently crouching down, peering through the trees. Allan joined him, and stifled a gasp when he saw the girl sitting on the bridge of the river, silently sobbing into her knees. It was such a contrast from the strong, brave warrior they had seen just hours ago, that if it wasn't for her distinctive clothes and weapons, Will and Allan wouldn't have known it was the same person. The moonlight reflected off the surface of the water, casting the surrounding forest in a strange light that was beautiful yet eerie, and the girl looked ghost-like in the half darkness.

Allan shifted slightly, and in doing so, snapped a twig. The noise wasn't particularly loud, but in the silence of the forest, it wasn't quiet either. The girls' head snapped up, and she immediately sprung to her feet and spun around, on the defensive, eyes searching for the source of the noise. But her swift movement disturbed a loose piece of stone, and she slipped. They could only watch in horror as she fell, and Will couldn't help noticing that she even did that with an ethereal elegance. She hit the water, and Will and Allan leapt from their hiding place and ran to the bridge.

"She's not coming up! Why is she not coming up?" Allan leant over the edge, searching the water, a slight hint of panic in his voice.

"Why's she not coming…" He turned to face Will, who was already taking his cloak off.

"Oh no. No, you have got to be joking." Will forced his axe into Allan's hands, and without a word, dived over the edge. Allan leaned over again, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Idiot."

Will pulled through the water, straining to see through the murky darkness. He twisted and turned, unable to see her, until he saw something hit the riverbed, a cloud of riverbed sand rising around her. He started to swim with long, powerful strokes, and grabbed the girl around her waist. He was running out of air, and his journey to the surface was becoming more painful, and his strokes weaker each passing second. He knew he didn't have much time left, and thought of the girl, who had been in far longer than him. Her tearstained, beautiful face flashed through his mind, and he seized upon the last of his strength, swimming harder than he'd ever swam in his life, until he finally broke through the surface, gasping for breath. He gulped down air into his lungs, and pulled the girl over to the bank. Allan, who had run down to the side, splashed in up to his waist, and helped the exhausted Will pull the girl up, and they lay her down.

"She's not breathing! Christ, do something Will!"

Will, still gasping for breath, knelt over her, and started shaking her. He cursed, he didn't know what to do! He would never forgive himself if the girl died. Desperately he pulled her limp body up into his lap, slapping her back to dislodge the water. He was willing her to wake, staring at her face, her eyes if they had been open, and starting hitting her face, almost crying with frustration.

"Wake up! Wake up! Come on! I did not go in that damn river for you to give up on me!"

He gave her one last slap on the back, and suddenly she coughed, choking up water and gasping for air. She opened her eyes and looked into Wills, and relief washed over him like the crest of a wave breaking. She closed her eyes and fell back into Wills arms, but she was now breathing, if shallowly and Will was torn between laughing and crying. He looked up at Allan, who had been watching the scene, desperately wishing there was something he could do, but knowing there wasn't. Will would later look back and marvel that they had both survived the river, and at his own strength. Realising she was alright for the time being, Allan sat back on his heels, and smiled, shaking his head. Still breathing heavily, Will looked up at Allan, then back at the girl, gazing at her intently.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I've definitely seen her before, but, I just can't remember where…." He trailed off, and Allan looked at him like he was mad. Will suddenly seemed to shake himself, and looked up at the other man.

"We've got to get her back to camp."

"I suppose. Well, I'm not carrying her."

Will scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a doll, and started off into the forest, Allan coming up behind him, his load now three times as heavy as it was when they started out.

After four hours of searching the forest and finding nothing, Robin returned to their camp to see if the others had had any luck. However, the camp was silent and empty. He roared with frustration, kicking out at a bucket. He was sitting head in hands when Much, Djaq and John returned.

"We didn't find anything, Master." Much came over and sat next to him on the log that served as a fireside bench.

"Was that…?" "Yes"

"But isn't she…?" "Yes"

"Oh"

John shook his head. He would never understand how Much and Robin seemed to know exactly what each other was thinking. But Much now seemed to realise that Robin wasn't in the mood to talk, so got up and began stoking the fire.

"I wonder where Will and Allan are?" He started conversationally, but no sooner than the words were out of his mouth did Will appear, soaking wet, the girl in his arms and Allan trailing behind.

Robin lifted his head at the sound of their voices and as soon as he saw Will he ran over, taking the girl into his arms without a word. He looked down at her with tears in his eyes and a tortured look on his face. One look from Much told the others not to say anything as Robin took her over to his bed and lay her down. The others shot confused looks at each other, but Much went cautiously up to where Robin was sitting, stroking the girls hair away from her face.

"Robin, I - I thought she was, well…dead?"

"So did I."

Allan had had enough. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

"Look, I hate to intrude on this clearly deeply moving moment, but so far that kid has knocked me out, caused me to miss dinner and run around the forest like a lunatic, and I am now soaking wet from the waist down, so if someone would be kind enough to tell me who she is…"

Robin let out a deep breath as if he couldn't quite believe what he was about to say.

"This, gents, is my younger sister, Lady Eavan Madeline of Locksley."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The camp plunged into stunned silence - you could've heard a pin drop. John and Allan stared at Robin dumbstruck. Much's brow furrowed, puzzled, and Djaq looked up from where she'd knelt beside the girl, mouth slightly open. The look on Will's face, however, was impossible to read.

"Jesus…" Allan let out a low whistle. "I never knew you had a sister." John shook his head in agreement. "Why did you never tell us?"

Much took one look at his master's face, and knew he needed time alone, without the questioning that was sure to follow. He gestured towards the others, and they turned to walk away, except Allan, who clearly wanted answers. He opened his mouth, but Will grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Much sat down heavily by the fire, and began stoking it once again, oblivious to the questioning looks from John, Will and Allan.

"Well?"

Much glanced up to be greeted by the sight of three men towering over him, looking down at him expectantly.

"Well what?"

Allan rolled his eyes, frustrated.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on or are you just going to sit there?"

"Oh" Much looked back down at the fire, avoiding Allan's eye.

"Oh, what?" Allan was desperate to know what was happening, and Much's lack of response was infuriating him beyond belief.

Bracing himself, Much took a deep breath and turned to face them. He opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it and turned back to face the fire. Eventually, hesitantly, he began to talk.

"We got a message, in the Holy Lands, about two years ago, telling Robin that…well, telling Robin that she was dead." The three men sat slowly down around the fire, their eyes never leaving Much's face, as he tried to explain.

"He was devastated. Little Evie….they were so close… He closed up immediately. He wouldn't talk to anyone for two days, and just carried on his duties, like… I dunno. His eyes were just, dead. And then suddenly he came out of his tent like nothing had happened. Happy as Larry. He had just, forced her out of his mind. I tried to talk to him about it, but… nothing. He had nightmares though. Always screaming her name…."

Much trailed off, looking deep in thought, tears in his eyes. The others looked at him, shocked into silence.

"Blimey." Allan was the first to speak, as always. A thought occurring to him, he turned to Will. "Hey, was that why you recognised her?" Will's face was still unreadable as he gazed into the flames.

"Yeah. Lady Eavan." He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding anyone's eye. "Robin wasn't the only one who thought she was dead."

"What?"

"We had funeral procession and everything. This was before the Sheriff; well...I suppose he had at least had to pretend he still respected the Locksley's."

"Did you know her then?" Will let out a short bark of a laugh and shook his head.

"No, 'course not. She's a Lady, remember. I'm just a carpenter's son."

The others could sense the anger and bitterness in his voice, so they weren't surprised, just confused, when he abruptly stood and left the camp without a word. Allan again looked to Much for answers.

"What's wrong with him?" Much immediately turned and began fussing over the fire.

"Well, it's…it's none of my business. If he wants to tell you he will."

"Eh?" Allan stared at Much, but seeing the way his head was held ridiculously high, knew he wasn't going to be able to get anything more out of him. A sudden wave of tiredness hit him, and seeing nothing else was likely to happen, sloped off to his bed. He'd talk to Will in the morning.

0-0-0-0

Marian arrived an hour later, striding into camp, determined to find out why Robin had not visited when they had agreed, but was pulled up short by the gloominess of the atmosphere. Instead of the normal laughter and rowdy shouts that filled the camp at mealtimes, the outlaws were all sitting round the fire in silence, and Robin was nowhere to be seen.

She went over to sit next to Much, who automatically handed her a bowl, as if by reflex.

"What…" Much cut her off before she could finish the question, knowing what it was.

"Evie's alive."

Marian's reaction was immediate. Her head snapped round to look at Much with utter confusion and disbelief etched across her face, and the bowl Much had just handed her smashed to the ground.

"Wh..what….how…?"

Much shook his head slightly. "I don't know. She's just turned up, out of the blue."

Marian was still staring at him in disbelief, the bowl of stew now lying in the dirt, going unnoticed.

"I take it you obviously thought she was dead as well."

Marian was speechless for several minutes, until suddenly she started speaking, more to herself than to anyone else.

"Father told me…but…didn't see a body…" She pulled herself together, and wiped away the tears that had been forming in her eyes. She was still getting used to the outlaws, and was certainly not prepared to start crying in front of them.

"Where is she?"

"The cave. Robin's with her."

Marian rose slightly from her seat, but Much put his hand on her arm.

"I wouldn't." She looked down into the kindly face of the man who knew Robin so well, perhaps even better than she herself, and knew he was right. She nodded a silent goodbye to the outlaws, and walked out.

As she mounted her horse, she wiped away tears that were forming in her eyes. Turning back to look at the camp Robin and his men had begun to call home, she sighed. Why was their life so…complicated?

0-0-0-0

Will returned later, relieving Much of guard duty. Much accepted gratefully – he was exhausted, and knowing his luck, the night when he fell asleep would be the night they were attacked, so he collapsed into bed, promising himself Will would have the biggest breakfast tomorrow. Meanwhile, Will, who was still wide awake, was trying, and failing, to sort the many different thoughts running through his head. He hadn't been on watch long when he heard something happening down where Evy was lying.

He ran over in time to see Robin struggling to hold her down, as she viciously tried to attack him. Robin noticed Will and gestured for him to come and help him restrain her. Will held down her legs, which were kicking out violently, while Robin struggled with her arms, shouting at her to wake up. Will realised that she was asleep, and rather than attacking Robin, seemed to be having a terrible nightmare. He found himself looking away, feeling that this was something that he shouldn't be watching. Eventually she woke with a start, breathing heavily, and looking into Robins face, as if trying to remember who he was, until her eyes widened with recognition, and she tried to scramble away, backing into the corner, terrified of her own brother. Half delirious, she kicked out, desperately trying to push him away, closing her eyes and shaking her head, as if to rid an awful vision from her mind.

"Evie! Evie! It's me! Listen to me! EVIE!" His voice rising to a shout, Robin caught hold of her head, and forced her to look at him. Tears streaming down her face, she shook her head, feebly trying to push him away, both hands on his chest.

"Y-you're dead…it can't be, you're…" Robin forced her face around again, willing her to understand, on the verge of tears himself.

"It's me, Evie. Robin. I'm here, I'm alive, I'm with you." He caught her gaze, and held it, his blue eyes looking straight into hers, full of desperation. She reached out a shaking hand and touched his face, unable to fully comprehend that he was here, he was alive, she could reach out and touch him. He covered her hand with his own, and knew she had now fully awoken, and attempted a smile, needing to comfort her, help her. As fresh waves of silent tears fell down her face, he gathered her small body into his own, rocking and soothing her as he would a young child. A single tear slid down his own cheek. He was ashamed, so ashamed. He'd selfishly, deliberately tried to forget her, to push her out of his mind to protect himself, because he couldn't cope with her loss, yet he'd been the one to leave her to survive on her own…

The siblings were watched in the shadows. At the mouth of the cave, five outlaws stood, watching their leader, the brave hero Robin Hood, crumble and break. As one, they all turned away, the danger gone, and each exchanged looks that all said one thing. They would never speak of what they had seen. To each other, to the girl, to Robin. Allan clapped Will on the back, and yawned.

"Right, I'm off to bed." They each nodded their agreement, and returned to their recently vacated beds, though each knew no one would get much sleep that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Dawn broke over the camp, and Much woke with a start. Gingerly sitting up, wondering why he'd woken so early, the events of the previous day came flooding back to him, and he fell back again. Looking up at the intersecting branches above him, he closed his eyes, wishing childishly that when he opened them, everything would be back to normal. But, no. Opening his eyes and looking over to the fire, he saw the hunched, dejected figure of Robin, sitting with his back to him. Much sighed, then pulled himself out of his tangle of blankets, dragged his cloak around him and wandered over to his friend, who was sitting facing the dancing flames of the fire, with his head once again in his hands.

"Master?" The reply was silence, but Much sat down next to him regardless. "How is she?"

Robin was silent for so long, Much almost asked again, but Robin eventually lifted his head out of his hands and gazed into the fire.

"I don't know. Djaq says she'll be fine, with time, but…" He trailed off into silence, brown eyes still fixed on the flames. He looked awful. Dark shadows were beginning to form under his red-rimmed eyes, his hair was standing up at every angle, his clothes crumpled and creased. The two men sat silently for a while, in a way that only two men who have been through hell together can, before Robin started speaking, still avoiding his friends eye.

"I thought she was dead, Much. She's been through… God only knows what, and, I…I haven't been here for her. Everything…it's my…it's all my fault." Much could think of no words to comfort or support his master. What could he say? Any reassurances would be false and fake, and would be of no use or comfort. So they sat in silence for a while, Much knowing if he had something to say, Robin would say it when he wanted to. And, sure enough, eventually it came.

"She woke up last night. She...she had a nightmare, then, when she woke she…" He shook his head, still searching for the words to describe it.

"She didn't believe it was me. She thought I was a ghost, a vision or a nightmare, and she pushed me away." Robin finally looked up at his friends face, his eyes searching for reassurance, and Much looked back down at a broken man.

"Something's happened to her. Something terrible…she'd been hurt. Badly. I just…"

Much didn't know what to say as tears started pricking in Robins eyes, so instead, he sat just sat there, sharing his friend's pain. Much would never know it, but the fact that he wasn't asking anything of Robin at that moment, and was content to just sit with him, meant more to Robin than anything in the world.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Djaq frowned. She'd dealt with just about every injury and sickness imaginable in her time, but the more injuries, bruises and marks she discovered on this poor girl's body…She shook her head, and pushed aside a strand of the girl's dark hair.

"What has happened to you, huh?" As she went about treating her, she talked to herself quietly, as she always unconsciously did.

"I didn't even know you existed, or the others. He never said…no one ever said." Djaq paused for a moment. How had she not known? She prided herself on her ability to read other people, to tell when they were hiding something or lying. And she had never guessed…

"Where have you been?" She straightened up, looking down at the sleeping girl sternly. "Come to think of it, if you're anything like your brother, I don't think I want to know…" A snort of laughter came from behind her and she spun around to see Robin leaning casually against the cave wall, watching her with an amused smile playing round his lips. He spread his arms out in mock indignation.

"What are you trying to say?" Djaq righted herself, and placed her hands on her hips, glaring at her leader. "How long have you been standing there?" Robin stood properly and started over to Djaq and his sister's bedside.

"Not long." The smile faded as he looked down at her immobile form. Hesitantly, he covered her small hand with his own, and turned to face the tired medic. "Djaq, is she alright? I mean, she hasn't woken yet apart from that nightmare, and her fever and her cough and…" Djaq sighed deeply, looking down at the pale girl.

"Robin…she's not a well girl. She's got some nasty injuries, she's not eaten in days at the very least and that spell in the river has got to her chest…But, she'll be alright. With time, and proper care…she should be on her feet soon." Robin smiled tightly, and placed a thankful hand on Djaq's shoulder.

"Thank you. I probably don't say this enough but…we'd be lost without you. I mean it. Thank you."

0-0-0-0-

Allan's horse pounded through the forest, kicking up leaves and clods of dirt, his heart thumping violently in his chest. Weaving in and out of the bare winter trees, Allan was thankful once again for his relatively good riding skills as he narrowly avoided a low-hanging branch. Urging his horse on, blood pounding in his ears, jumbled thoughts whirled confusingly through his brain, but one stood out clearly.

Find Robin.

He'd gone to meet a contact, and Allan prayed fervently he was still there, and hadn't wandered off to Nottingham on a whim, as was his habit. He raced out of the edge of the wood, and continued forward, towards Nettlestone village. Dark clouds hung low overhead ominously, and it would not be long before the heavens opened. Attracting more than a few curious glances, he reached the centre of the village and found the dark, dingy inn he hoped Robin was currently sat in. Leaving a cloud of dust in his wake, he slid off his horse and pelted into the establishment, almost knocking a young serving wench to the ground. It was a mark of just how worried he was that he didn't even give her a second look, but left her, dazed, and plunged into the crowd. Earning himself a few nasty looks and tripping over a table leg, he found Robin, tucked away in the darkest corner, hood up. The people may love him, but you could never be too careful about where you were seen, and who you were with.

Robin looked up, and as he saw Allan, a look of annoyance spread across his face. He hissed up at him.

"What are you doing here?" Breathing hard with the exertion of his ride, Allan swallowed, hands on knees, a pain developing in his side. Gasping, he struggled to get the words out.

"It's Evie." The colour drained from Robin's face, and he leapt to his feet, sending a mug half-full of ale over onto the floor.

"She's taken a turn for the worse…" Before he could even finish his sentence, Robin had moved, practically running past Allan and disappearing behind him. Shrugging his hurried apologies to the confused man, Allan turned and followed, exiting the inn to see Robin already mounting Allan's horse. In his haste to get to Robin, he'd neglected to bring a second one, but Robin leant down and grabbed his forearm, pulling him up. He had barely sat when Robin pivoted the horse, and they shot off, like an arrow out of a bow.

0-0-0-00-0

Much stopped and stared numbly at the scene in front of him. John had Evie in his arms, lowering her into a tub of slightly-warmed water. The delirious girl had only a long, mans undershirt on to protect her modesty, and was revealed to be horribly, shockingly thin. As she lay in the makeshift bath, Djaq knelt next to her, sleeves rolled up, supporting her neck and washing the water gently over the girl. Much's early protests had been shot down, his insistence that the best way to rid the girl of her fever was to sweat it out crushed by one fearsome look from Djaq. As Djaq raised a waterskin to Evie's dry lips, Much backed away, feeling useless and unneeded. He kicked out suddenly, imitating his master perfectly, ripping his cap from his head and twisting it in his hands. Where was Allan? Robin? Had Allan even found him yet? He began pacing, but was cut short by a furious look from Djaq.

"Stop!" Much stopped in his tracks, but still fiddled, and shifted from one leg to the other. Unable to help himself, he broke the nervous silence.

"Where's Robin?! Allan? They should've been back by now, I knew we should've sent Will…"

"Hush!" Djaq was at the end of her tether, but Much continued to mutter under his breath, despite the look he was receiving from John. As she wiped a damp cloth over the girl's brow, and felt it with the back of her hand, Djaq let out a small sigh of relief. Her temperature was cooling, and she was beginning to come round. Knowing they had to act quickly, she looked over at Little John, and jerked her head, indicating she needed him to pick the girl up. He bent, and easily carried her over to the roaring fire, where Djaq knelt next to her. She held out her hand in Will's direction.

"Shirt." Will started, perplexed.

"What?" Djaq sighed. She really did not have time for this. She couldn't ask Much, he would fuss and fluster too much, and any item of John's clothing would drown her.

"She needs a dry shirt, now give me yours!" Will hesitated for a fraction of a second, unsure, before tugging his tunic off over his head along with his shirt, and throwing it over to Djaq, before taking the thick cloak John was holding out and wrapping himself up in it, suddenly very self-conscious, and more than a little glad that Evie was not exactly aware of her surroundings. She caught the shirt without even glancing up, and waved with her hand at the three men.

"Turn around. The least we can do is grant her a little dignity." The three men quickly spun around, awkwardly avoiding each others eyes. Behind them, Djaq carefully lifted the soaked undershirt off, wrapping her swiftly in a blanket that had been warmed by the fire. Her eyes softened for a moment as she looked down at the girl, weak and helpless in her arms. It was strange. Yesterday, this child had fought and beaten more than a dozen soldiers single-handly, but with one false move, one slip, she was a wreak, balancing the fine line between life and death. She had seen so many brave, fearsome warriors reduced to a pathetic mess with disease and injury, and it scared and fascinated her in equal measure. That such a simple thing could bring whole troops of men to their knees… When dealing with patients, she had long ago discovered that if you kept a stern, business-like manner, not letting any emotion through, it helped not only the patient himself, but worked in her favour too. She would never lose control of her emotions; never let them get the better of her.

She pulled Will's shirt over Evie's body, and wrapped the girls cloak tightly around her. She had just finished, when Robin came pelting into the camp, closely followed by Allan. His eyes immediately leapt to his sister, lying in Djaq's arms beside the fire, and he cursed, running over. Silently, Djaq gently transferred her into the arms of her brother, and made to stand, but Robin grabbed her arm, looking up at her desperately.

"She's alright, isn't she?" He didn't even try to hide the pure fear in his eyes. After a moments pause, Djaq nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it, deciding instead to leave them alone and watch from a distance. Taking this as a sign that the panic was over, the rest of the outlaws visibly relaxed, releasing breaths they didn't realise they were holding. Much sat down heavily, trying to avoid looking at the pair by the fire, but failing miserably.

He had always been fond of the little child he had known, who was always running around and getting in the way, but had often been jealous of the girl. Before she was born, Robin was his. He was Robin's best friend, he was the one Robin told all his secrets to – until Evie was born. They were seven at the time, and seven year old boys get jealous easily, especially when the attention is taken away from them. Suddenly, Robin wanted to spend time cooing over his baby sister, and as they got older, she always wanted to play with them. No matter how often Robin jokingly resisted, he always gave in to her demands in the end. They were suddenly a trio, and Much wasn't sure if he liked it.

Much was also noticing how much she had changed. When he and Robin had left for the Holy Land, she had been a child of thirteen, with long plaits and gappy teeth. Now, she was a young woman of eighteen – and a beautiful young woman at that. Gone were the plaits and gaps in her teeth, replaced with long dark hair curling down her back and a beautiful smile. He hated himself for it, but deep down in his mind, he was scared. Scared of Evie stealing Robin back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Robin jerked his head back up with a start, opening his heavy eyelids wide in a vain attempt to keep sleep at bay. He hadn't slept at all the previous night, little the night before, and was now feeling the effects, so he found himself dozing off, despite his best efforts. All attempts to remove him from her side had been abandoned, as the gang realised swiftly it was a lost cause, so they left him to it, apart from the occasional glance from Djaq to check she was alright.

He woke with a start when he felt something gently squeeze his hand, and looked up to find Evie looking at him with her intense blue eyes.

"Hello."

The only time Robin could ever remember feeling like he did now was when Marian woke from the dead. It was a curious mix of disbelief and jubilation, and before he knew it tears were running down his face, tears of pure relief. Concern swiftly crossed the girl's pale face, and she reached her hand up and touched Robin's face, a hand that was quickly covered by his own. Her lips curved into a small smile.

"Hey," she said softly, "I'm the injured party here, don't you think I should be the one crying?" Robin laughed, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tight she thought he'd never let go. This…this was the Evie he knew, not the weak, crying wreck he'd held in his arms only last night.

.

"Welcome back." Evie smiled into his shoulder.

"That close was I?" Robin's small smile vanished, and he held her at arms length. His pale blue eyes caught hers, and he held her open gaze.

"I'm serious. What happened?" It was now Evie's that disappeared, and shook her head, tearing her eyes away from her brother's enquiring stare. She had known she would have to explain, to fill in the years she'd been gone…but she couldn't tell him. She couldn't do that to him, couldn't let him bear that burden. And if he knew the truth…

"Robin…I can't tell you."

"Why not? You can tell me anything."

"I just…please. Not yet. One day." Robin sighed. He'd never understand woman, Marian and Evie in particular, but heartbroken as he was that she felt she couldn't tell him, he knew she was as stubborn as the woman she called sister.

"Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living!" The gang, who had previously been loitering around the camp lazily, now made their way over. As the various outlaws fell into place before her, Evie couldn't help but feel an amused smile cross her lips. Robin always did collect a strange assortment of people.

_As the door slammed shut, taking the last rays of sunshine and Marian with it, Robin kicked out at a chair angrily, before sinking down into it, head in his hands. Her shouts were still ringing in his ears, and the look of mangled confusion and pain on her face as he told her was burning behind his closed eyes. This was not what he wanted! He didn't want to hurt her, he would never hurt her, but what choice did he have? His country was at war, his king needed him. It was his duty to fight, he had a responsibility to his fellow countrymen. And he would only be gone a few years, his estate would be safe in Thornton's very capable hands…he wasn't 'betraying' his people, he was helping them! He was one of the best archers in the country, the king needed men like him to help!_

_He wasn't abandoning her…was he? He loved her, he would always love her, whether here or in the Holy Lands, why couldn't she understand that?_

_Unbeknownst to him, a pair of blue eyes had been watching everything through the banister, slowly filling with tears as she heard her brother's words, and watched his betrothed almost beg him to stay, before leaving, swearing never to return._

_He kicked out again angrily, and raised his head reluctantly, opening his eyes. Marian wasn't the only problem. What was he going to say to Evie? If Marian had taken it so badly…_

"_When were you going to tell me?" Evie stood at the top of the stairs, deadly still, looking down at her brother. After she'd seen her strong, independent, idolised sister-figure reduced to tears and screaming, she promised herself she would not react the same way…at least, not in front of Robin. He rose from his chair, looking up at her imploringly. Shoulders down, back straight, gazing down at him imperiously…at fourteen years of age, she was a lady. Or at least knew how to act the part._

"_Evie I…" He sighed and bowed his head, slightly ashamed. "Did you hear all that?" Picking up her skirts, she glided down the steps towards him, though it took all her strength and willpower not to collapse to the ground. She wanted nothing better than to break down in tears, beat Robin's chest with her fists and beg him to stay…but she knew it would do no good. She had just watched Marian do it, and if the sight of her tears did not make him waver, what chance did she have?_

"_I heard."_

"_Evie…" Almost on the verge of tears at the sight of his warm, emotional sister standing still as stone, eyes like ice, he moved towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders, to comfort himself as much as her._

"_I have to do this. For my king, for my…" She pushed his hands away, silencing him._

"_You don't __have __to do anything." As he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head._

"_I don't want to hear excuses. I just…" She stopped, her resolve weakening, but forced herself to continue._

"_I just don't understand. Why would you leave your town, your village, your people, your betrothed…me, Robin?" He couldn't take this. First Much, then Marian, now Evie. Why did no one understand, no one appreciate what he was doing, what he was sacrificing for his country? His temper, that had been bubbling in the pit of his stomach, overflowed suddenly._

"_You wouldn't understand!" Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He saw the look of fury swiftly cross his sisters face._

"_Because I'm a girl?! Because I'm your little sister, little Evie?! I don't understand when my guardian, the only family I have left, leaves me on my own to live in an empty house…I don't understand why a man with responsibilities would leave to play at war…"_

"_My responsibilities are with the king in the Holy Lands…"_

"_You have responsibilities here! Responsibilities to your people, to Marian, to me! What about those responsibilities?" Her resolve was visibly weakening, tears forming in her eyes despite her best efforts, but she continued, forcing the words out._

"_Are they not important enough; is there not enough glory in running a village, keeping its occupants safe?" Robin found himself unable to speak. Even if he could, he was not sure he would find any words that would console her. As he struggled inwardly, she gazed up at him, her cold glare replaced with something much, much worse. Pure disappointment. _

_Robin left several days later. As he mounted his horse, Much silent beside him, he looked back at his home. There was no fanfare, no crowds had gathered to see him off and wish him well. Just a few peasants sneaking curious looks, and his servants, led by Thornton, standing outside, quiet and subdued. Marian…he hadn't seen Marian since he'd told her. He'd attempted to visit her, but her father quickly put a stop to that, not letting the young man near his house or his daughter. And Evie…earlier in the day, he'd tried to say goodbye to her, perhaps make her forgive him. She'd pointedly ignored him, not spoken or looked at him all week, but he didn't want to leave without her blessing. Which she didn't give. Forcing him out of her bedchamber, she'd locked the door and hadn't been seen since. He'd tried everything – shouting, talking calmly, threatening to knock down the door, reasoning, bargaining, cajoling, all to no avail. Eventually he'd been dragged away by Much, who saw Robin's efforts were unlikely to be rewarded._

_As both men turned the horses, making their way down the road that lead away from the house, away from the village, away from their home, Robin glanced back, desperate for one last glance of home. His eye caught Evie's window, and he saw her, gazing across at him, face passive and dry. He held her gaze for little more than a second before turning back for good. _

_Evie watched her brother's retreating back steadily, before abruptly leaving her window, and rushing over to her still locked door. Hands shaking clumsily, she unlocked the door, throwing it open and racing through the house, leaping down the stairs two at a time. She had to say goodbye, she couldn't let him leave without one final word, she couldn't let the last moments between them be filled with nothing more than silent anger. In her haste, she tripped on the final step, falling hard on the stone floor. Ignoring the pain and her scraped palms, she scrambled up, desperate to get to him…She wrenched open the door, and her heart clenched. All she could see was the dust left in the departing horses wake. Horrified, eyes filling with tears, she ran. Ignoring the shouts of Thornton, she ran blindly down the road, her vision impaired by tears, all the while knowing that he was gone, he was gone and he wasn't coming back. She stumbled and fell, and this time, stayed down. Great sobs racked her body the cold, hard truth hit her. He was gone. She was too late, he wasn't coming back. Deep down, there had been a part of her that hadn't truly believed he would go, that had made her stay cold towards him…and now it was too late. _

_Villagers who had emerged from their cottages at the sound of the commotion stood, watching the young girl sit, broken, in the dust, crying, screaming for her brother. No one made a move to help her, unsure of what to do, apart from one boy, who came racing round the corner of his fathers workshop. Seeing no one else taking any action but to stare, he ran over to her, batting his father's warning hand away. Silently, he knelt beside the girl, who turned her tearstained face towards him, as if she couldn't understand what had happened. As their eyes met, he saw the raw emotion, the hurt and confusion in her eyes. Acting entirely on instinct, momentarily forgetting who this girl was, he wrapped his arms around her shaking body, and she collapsed into him, clinging to him for comfort and security._

_The pair sat like that, in the middle of the road until darkness fell. The crowd had long gone, probably to tell everyone they knew what they had seen, and they were now only watched by Thornton, standing by the window, never taking his eyes off them. He knew the boy well, knew his family and knew he was trustworthy, like his father, but he was taking no risks. One false move, and he'd know._

_By now she had no more tears to shed, and her face was dry. She had stopped shaking, and was now staring blankly at the empty road. Knowing she was in no state to walk, even just the short distance to her home, he gently shifted his arms, and picked her up. Although only just in his eighteenth year, he was tall and well-built, and he lifted her easily. As Thornton watched, and realised what he was doing, he made his way downstairs and opened the door, greeted by the sight of his new mistress lying numb in the arms of a village boy. He indicated with his head for the boy to follow, and made his way upstairs. He wasn't as young as he'd once been, and his back had been badly hurt in an accident, so he let the boy carry her, although every rule and protocol went against a man entering an unmarried woman's bedchamber, especially a peasant. But, he thought grimly, there were certain times protocol was not needed. The boy gently laid her on her bed, and awkwardly turned to leave. This was a place he shouldn't be, something he shouldn't be doing. As he reached the door, Thornton looked up from where he stood over her now sleeping body, and nodded approvingly._

"_Thank you, Will."_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Good afternoon." Robin looked up with a start, bleary eyes adjusting slightly to the light. Lost in his memories, he hadn't noticed Evie wake, and she was now sitting up, cross-legged, gazing at him thoughtfully.

She'd been making a steady recovery for about a week, thanks to Djaq, but hadn't been allowed to leave the camp at all, leaving her very bored, and very frustrated. Lying in bed with nothing to do, watching the outlaws go about their business had driven her mad, but she understood the looks that were passed between her brother and Djaq, and knew it was for her own good. That didn't make her any less patient to get up and just _do_ something though, and now she could honestly say she was feeling fine, and apart from a nasty cough, was ready to get up.

Sliding off her bed, she wandered over to her brother, arms folded across her chest for warmth, and sat next to him, tucking her knees up and resting her chin on them. Looking at him with her trademark shrewd, open blue eyes. "Are you alright?" Robin shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting to reveal what had been running through his mind. After Djaq's strenuous assurances that his sister was in fact recovering, and he didn't need to worry half as much as he was, he had calmed down from his panicked state.

"Yeah." Evie didn't take her eyes off him, not believing him for a second. Although a fairly good liar when he wanted to be, more often than not she could read him like a book.

"Liar." For a second, Robin contemplated arguing, but thought better of it and shook his head, tossing the twig he'd been absentmindly fiddling into the flames.

"It's nothing important." Still looking at him with a raised eyebrow, Evie looked utterly unimpressed by this pathetic excuse for an argument. Deciding to change the subject swiftly, he stretched his arms out in front of him, clicking his fingers and looked sideways at her. "How're you feeling?" Evie smiled sardonically.

"I've been better." She batted his outstretched arm away good-naturedly. "No, really, I'm fine." It was now Robin's turn to look at her disbelievingly, but he wisely decided not to press the matter. They sat in silence for a few moments, each quietly going over things in their minds. Evie began to fiddle with the laces on her sleeves, a sure sign she was about to ask a question of which she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"So. Are you ready to talk to me yet?"

"What do you mean?" Evie raised and tilted her head, and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Well, you're not dead, you're living in Sherwood Forest with Much, Will Scarlett, a very large man called Little and an apparently very limited vocabulary , a very loud man who quite makes up for it and a female Saracen physician. Do I have to say it?" Robin snorted derisively, realising how it must look to an outsider. Knowing he'd have to explain sooner or later, he decided sooner was better, and reluctantly started to talk.

"The Sheriff and his lackey…" Evie's eyes flickered, just slightly, but enough for Robin to notice and stop, looking up at her questioningly.

"You know them?" Evie's mouth twitched.

"We've met." A need to know what had passed between the Sheriff and Evie surged through Robin, but the look she gave him told him she was not prepared to discuss it. He let it pass, and launched into his familiar story, as she watched him carefully, taking in every word.

"Yeah, well. Me and Much returned from the Holy Lands to find a corrupt system…the people were being taxed to the hilt, being punished brutally for the most minor of crimes…this new Sheriff, Vaisey, was going to hang Will and Luke, Benedict Gibbons – you remember him? – and Allan, for stealing a couple of sacks of flour to feed their families! I couldn't watch them hang for that, so I helped them escape, and became outlawed in the process. Been living out here ever since, helping the poor as much as we can. What we take from the rich, we give to the poor." A small smirk crossed Evie's features. That was her brother all over, never one to play the long game, always jumping in without thinking.

"How very heroic. I'm sure your names will go down in history – Robin of Locksley and his men, stealing from the rich to give to the poor." Robin sighed a long-suffering sigh and ran his hand through his sandy hair.

"Don't you start." Realisation dawned on Evie, and she bit her lip, stifling a laugh at the exasperated look on her brother's face.

"Ah. So I take it Marian isn't one of your trusty outlaws?" She clearly already knew this, as Marian had not had the chance to visit since Evie arrived, but was intensely curious about the woman she'd always thought of a sister and felt he was unlikely to tell her straight out.

"Well…sort of…She's still in the castle." Evie recognised the pained look on his face, and the smile faded.

"Still believes the best way is to work within the system then?" Robin sighed again, running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair that, Evie noticed, was getting far too long.

"Unfortunately, yes." He looked back up at his sister, who was looking at him doubtfully.

"And life would be safer in the forest, as an outlaw?" Robin sighed again, shaking his head.

"She's in too much danger there. She should be here, with me, instead of being drooled over by Gisbourne…" Recognising the signs of Robin building himself up into a long rant, she gently intercepted, putting her hand on his arm.

"Robin? She can look after herself." Robin was saved from having to reply from the undeniable truth of this statement by the return of the rest of the gang.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_The door flew open, crashing violently against the wall and he strode in, his presence immediately filling the room, his black fury casting a cloud._

"_Lady Eavan." Evie knew who it was, but didn't have the courage to turn and face him, steeling herself for the inevitable._

"_What do you want?" No sooner than she had spat out the words, she found herself slammed against the wall, staring into the face of the man she hated more than anyone else she knew. She turned her head away in disgust, but he grabbed her face and forced it round, so she had no choice but to look into his dull, grey, dead eyes._

"_Do not talk to me in that way! I had hoped you would have learnt some more manners, but evidently I was wrong."_

"_Get your hands off me." Evie's voice was dangerous, but she could not disguise the tremble in her words, no matter how hard she tried. He released her and stepped away, a look of disgust on his face. _

"_I don't understand you, girl. Hundreds of others would give their right hand to marry me, marry into my family, my wealth. But you…"_

_Revulsion coursed through Evie's body, as she looked at the evil, conceited man standing before her, dressed in all his showy finery, while his peasants were starving. She had to get out of this marriage; she could never live as his wife._

"_I'll never marry you. You're an evil, disgusting excuse for a man, why I would want to spend my life with you-"_

_He grabbed her wrists, and pulled her so close to him they were almost nose to nose._

"_What you want has nothing to do with this matter. Why should I care what you think?" _

_Anger overriding sense, she spat in his eyes, anger blazing in her own. True fury flared up inside him, and he slapped her, the force sending her sprawling onto the bed. She looked up at him, clutching her face, shocked for mere seconds, then sprang up to meet him, letting fly with her fists, but he was a big man, stronger than she was, and he overpowered her easily. He pushed her back onto the bed, and her struggling became frenzied. She started screaming, desperate for someone, anyone to hear her –_

Evie woke with a jolt, and sat up, looking around her in the half-darkness. For a split second she forgot where she was and panic waved over her, until she saw Robin sleeping under a tree, and her memory returned in a rush. She exhaled with cautious relief, and carefully stood so as not to wake the others, smoothing down her clothes automatically and went over to the fire that was burning low. Absentmindedly picking up a stick and stoking the flames, she wrapped her arms around her knees in a vain attempt to warm herself. She mentally shook herself. She had promised herself she was going to forget the last two years of her life, but her dreams kept intruding. She gazed into the fire, fighting away the tears that had sprung to her eyes. All her energy was focused on not crying - she was not going to let any of the men, especially not her brother, see her upset. She wouldn't risk it.

She didn't realise that someone who had been thinking the same thing just days ago was watching her. Marian, having just arrived, went over to the girl, and silently sat next to her, wrapping her arms around Evie's shoulders. Looking up, she saw the older woman. Confusion and too many conflicting emotions defeated her, and she finally stopped trying to control her tears, and broke down, collapsing into Marians' arms and sobbing, clinging to Marian as if she was a rock in the middle of a stormy sea, threatening to drag her under.

Almost in tears herself at the first sight of the girl she had thought dead, Marian stroked the girl's loose hair, soothing her as she had done so often when Evie was a child. As a toddler, and then a young girl, Marian had been the only one able to calm her down when she hurt herself, or when Robin had forgotten her, left her behind or shouted at her - rare as that was. Even as a very young girl, Evie never cried in front of anyone, scared to prove everyone right – that as the baby of the family, as a _girl,_ she was weaker than everyone else, particularly her brother. So when Marian had found her in a barn, curled up and crying because she had fallen off her horse, and hadn't needed to ask why she didn't run to Robin or her father, as everyone else would have done, Evie had realised that Marian felt the same way too - and since that moment, they had become each others refuge, able to cry with each other about things they would have otherwise brushed off in front of anyone else.

The pair sat like that for hours, long after Evie's tears had finally dried, until dawn finally broke, and Much's bed began to creak, signalling his imminent awakening. Without saying a word, Evie lifted her head off Marian's shoulder, and they looked at each other, making a silent agreement not to say anything. Marian then glanced over to Robin, and Evie followed her gaze. A sly grin spread across the younger girl's face, and she looked at a bucket of freezing water, back to Robin and then to Marian. Marian realised what was running through Evie's mind, and looked at her incredulously.

"Oh…you wouldn't…"

Evie's grin spread wider as she stood, picked up the bucket and crept over to where Robin was sleeping, lying spread-eagled and snoring quietly. She looked back over to where Marian was sitting, torn between amusement and frustration, and laughed.

"Oh I would…"

The next thing Robin knew was he was very cold, very wet, very awake, and very, very annoyed at the giggling girl standing above him, empty bucket in hand.

The outlaws lazed around the fire, quiet apart from the occasional snigger at Robin's rude awakening. The man in question was still attempting to dry off, furtively shooting furious looks at his sister and those laughing at his plight – which was, admittedly, most of them – while listening to Marian detailing which families had lost someone, or needed the extra help. Finally, frustrated, she threw up her hands.

"Are you even listening?" Snapping back to attention, looking a lot like a child who had just been caught with his hand in the biscuit jar, Robin looked at her sheepishly.

"Yeah…" Trying to hide her amused smile underneath a mask of exasperation, she placed her hands on her hips. Recognising the gesture, Allan and Evie glanced at each other, then quickly turned back, hiding their smirks in their bowls, while Much tried gallantly to pretend to ignore what was happening behind him, as the couple's bickering turned into something decent society would never have approved of.

Realising Robin would be occupied for a while, Evie seized her chance, and sidled up to Djaq, who was attempting to tidy her section of the camp. Although not one with an eye for pretty furnishings and the like, she was fanatically tidy, and after trying, and failing, to get the men to keep the entire place clean, she had given up on them. Allan watched Evie approach Djaq with interest, knowing she was seeking permission to leave her bed and start working again. From what he'd heard, Evie had talent when it came to talking people round, and as she began to quietly and unobtrusively help Djaq, he smirked appreciatively. Helping her tidy…well, she knew what she was doing, he would give her that.

"Djaq…" The Saracen woman raised her eyebrow, and smiled to herself. Here we go…

The gang made their way out of camp, adjusting cloaks and weapon belts, the boisterous laughter and banter that usually accompanied them ever present. Robin slowed behind the rest, slightly bemused. How had he ended up taking Evie with them? Once she and Djaq had begun to talk, and question, and pester, and…well, somehow, he wasn't sure how, he'd agreed.

"'ere, take this." Allan passed a spare bow over to Evie, but, her cheeks flushing pink, she shook her head, pushing the bow back.

"No, I'd better not." Nose wrinkling in confusion, he looked down at the girl, who was studiously avoiding his eye, now seemingly fascinated with the crushed leaves scattering the floor and repeatedly twisting a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Eh?" Glancing briefly back up at the curious man at her side, and ignoring the snort of amusement emitted by Robin, Evie ran her options over in her head. There was absolutely no way around this. She would have to tell them. Stupid and childish as it was…admitting one of her biggest failings was not an easy thing to do. But…it must be done.

"I'm…well. I'm terrible with a bow."

Double-taking, Allan stopped dead in his tracks, and Much, not looking where he was going, walked straight into him. Stumbling back, and rubbing the bridge of his nose indignantly, he looked over at Allan, who was ignoring him completely, all his attention concentrated on Evie, who was still studiously ignoring his eye, convinced he'd heard wrong.

"Ow!" Far too interested in this new revelation, Allan again ignored the angry mutterings behind him, and turned to full on face the newest arrival.

"You're kiddin'!" Evie stopped, and turned back to the man, standing stunned with his mouth hanging open. At the sight of the man who she'd yet to see shut up completely lost for words, her mouth reluctantly twisted into a half smile. By now the others had realised the pair had stopped, and were looking back with varying degrees of interest and understanding, Robin sniggering quietly in the background.

"I kid you not. I'm really, really bad." Allan's stunned expression slowly cracked, and he snorted with laughter.

"You're 'avin me on. You, the great Robin Hood's sister, can't use a bow?" Shrugging, she spread her arms, pulling her cloak away from her body, several lethal looking knives hanging from a belt around her waist telling them all they needed to know.

Disbelief still etched on his face, Allan turned to Robin, who had been watching the scene with quiet amusement, for confirmation. Robin grinned. How many times had he seen that reaction?

Little John and Allan were both unabashedly staring at her, Allan's mouth hanging open, and even though she had more savvy to stare openly, Djaq also had a curious look in her dark eyes. Much was still annoyed with Allan, and was clearly not impressed with the interest this admission had caused, and Robin was still sniggering quietly. She looked around and caught Will's eye, and felt a rueful smile cross her face. He had a slightly knowing smirk on his own, and she remembered he would know full well about her complete lack of skill with her brother's infamous weapon. Still slightly pink, she shook her head and lightly shoved Allan in the arm, indicating the time for gawping at her was over, and they should move on. Still shaking his head wordlessly, Allan started walking on, Little John clapping him on the back with a broad grin hidden beneath his bushy beard. As Robin and Djaq started up what promised to be a long session of generally winding the southerner up, Will fell into step next to Evie, slightly behind the others. She looked up, slightly startled and briefly caught his still-smiling eyes.

She'd always been good with blades, even as a child. Will could vividly remember the day Robin had attempted to give his six year old sister his old miniature bow, which he'd been saving especially for this purpose. Excited, and certain she would be a natural, he was sorely disappointed when she showed no interest or aptitude at all. However, after one – pathetic – attempt, the young child had become a lot more interested in the knife that was lying round. As she showed no interest in the bow whatsoever, Robin saw his chance and seized it. From there on in, he taught his sister everything he knew about blades – although he wasn't great with knives himself, he knew practically every technique known to man. Soon, the two young nobles had built up a reputation as one of the best fighting partnerships around. What skill each lacked in archery and knives, the other made up for in abundance.

Of course, their father was completely unaware of what his precious daughter got up to – it was the biggest and best-kept secret in all of Locksley. But that was a long time ago now.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Evie knew what she wanted to say. But she had no idea how to say it. How did you give your condolences to someone you barely knew?

"Robin told me about your mother," she started nervously, and Will's head turned slightly, his back stiffening. "I'm sorry." His entire stance changed, defensive and hardened, his guard up. He hated pity, empty condolences, he couldn't handle it. He was never sure if the sympathy was honest, sincere.

"Thanks." He attempted a tight smile. "It was a long time ago."

"Doesn't make it any easier though."

Will looked down to see not a girl offering insincere pity, but a young woman who understood. "She was the kindest woman I've ever met." It wasn't much, it wasn't elaborate and intricate, but it was truthful, genuine, and final. There was nothing else she needed to say.

They spent the next few moments in companionable silence, watching Little John accidentally shove Allan off the road and into a ditch, then paying for it dearly once the smaller man pulled himself out.

"Your father and Luke…" She left the unfinished question hang in the air, and Will inwardly released a breath he'd been unintentionally holding, glad they were on safer ground.

"Scarborough." She squinted up at him, raising her hand to shield her gaze from the sudden sun that had rolled out from behind the clouds.

"Scarborough?" He laughed at the confusion in her voice, and offered an explanation. "Staying with my Aunt Annie."

"Do you miss them?" Will was startled into silence. He'd never told anyone that the hole his father and brother had left was still as gaping wide as ever, but now he thought about it, he realised he'd never been asked. They were a group of outlaws, fighting for survival everyday, and they rarely talked about their hopes and fears. On those dark, cold nights by the fire when they did, Will had always felt that compared to the rest, his lot in life, his reasons to be unhappy, were insignificant when put next to their suffering, so always kept quiet, instinctively doing what his life had always taught him to do, and lock his feelings up inside him.

But for some reason, when he glanced down at the concerned but astute blue eyes looking up at him, he knew that this was a chance to be honest, to admit what he didn't want to admit, and not be scorned or overlooked.

"Everyday." Evie didn't reply, but simply nodded slightly, an indication of both acceptance and empathy, still holding Will's gaze. It was several moments before Will, suddenly realising what he was doing and growing uncomfortable, broke the moment, looked forward, and closed up. He was suddenly on edge. It unnerved him, how someone could so easily read him, and make it so easy for him to

"But I'm a grown man now. This is my life, the life I've chosen." Evie, recognising the end of the conversation, didn't say anything more, but knew she had just witnessed a rare event. She knew that he'd spoken the truth, but was perceptive enough to recognise, amongst the pride and certainty, the element of regret in his voice.

"Alright, usual formation."

Evie looked sideways at her brother, eyebrow raised, shaking her head inwardly. Informative as ever. They were kneeling up on the side of the road, disguised by the clustered branches of the bare trees, watching a carriage carefully. Its back wheel was stuck in a rut – admittedly of Allan and Robin's making – and its occupant was sitting on the bank, wrapped in thick fur lined cloaks, watching his guards miserably fail to pull the wheel out. What the exhausted soldiers didn't know, however, was that was no ordinary mud.

"Dare I ask, what's the usual formation?" On her other side, Allan shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze still intent on the road.

"Varies." She turned her incredulous gaze to the man on her right, who didn't seem to realise the utter uselessness of his words, as Will and Djaq grinned, exchanging knowing looks.

Muttering to herself "How can the usual formation vary?" Evie moved slightly in order to get a better look, peering over her brother's shoulder.

Pushing Much over in the process, Allan stood and stretched languorously. Ignoring the fallen man's hissed complaints, he shook his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "This could be tricky. Look at 'em, they'll see us coming a mile off." Murmurs of agreement followed. If they leapt out straight on they'd have no chance – there were more than a dozen armed soldiers on lookout alone. Deep in thought, Evie was the only one not participating in the muttered discussion. When she spoke, it took a moment for the gang to realise she had. "Not if they've got a distraction, if they break ranks."

"Well, yeah…" Allan wasn't sure where she was going with this until she looked up at him. "What, you?" She couldn't be bothered to be insulted at the man's taken aback tone.

"Why not?" When she was greeted with nothing more than silence, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Trust me, no man can resist a damsel in distress." A grin slowly spread across Allan's face. For the last couple of days, Robin had been so smug about his sisters supposed skills, and Allan was curious.

"Alright then. Let's see what you can do." A grin spread across Evie's face, and the other's, seeing this, all sighed with various levels of exasperation and amusement. They'd seen that grin far too often on Robin's face. The man himself was leaning back on his heels, bemused at how somehow he'd been left out of this discussion. As Evie rose up onto her knees to go, he held a hand out.

"Hold on, do I have no say in this?" Evie gazed at her brother in exaggerated consideration, before shrugging.

"No, not really. Here, take this." She passed Djaq her sword, then grinned wickedly at the outlaws, before turning on her heel and disappearing into the bushes. They all smirked at Robin, Allan clapping him on the shoulder jovially.

"That told you, mate." Silently, with the skill of men who did this far too often, the outlaws arranged themselves, spreading out across the side of the road, giving the guards no escape route.

Robin's heart was in his mouth as he clutched his bow tight for reassurance. He had a sneaking suspicion of what she was planning to do, but she was about to walk into the middle of more than a dozen armed soldiers and no way in God's name could that ever be considered safe.

Crouched in the bushes, Evie adjusted the strap of her cloak, checking one last time that all her carefully concealed weapons were indeed hidden from view. "God, I hope this works", she muttered to himself, before stepping out from behind the corner. Head bowed, dragging her feet, she made her way shakily down the road. Chancing a glance up through the hood, she glimpsed the guards one by one noticing her, nudging their comrades, muttering curiously to each other. She continued on until she was only a dozen strides in front of the shield of soldiers, before lifting her head, letting her hood fall back off her face, eyes widening as if seeing them for the first time.

"Please…help…" she gasped, swaying on the spot before swooning to the ground in a perfect imitation of a dead faint.

At the sight of her hitting the ground, the soldiers snapped into action, several of them rushing over, vitally breaking ranks. As they crouched down around her, Evie heard the jumbled murmurs of the guards surrounding her.

"Where did she come from?"

"Who is she?"

"What do we do with her?"

From further away the voice of the carriage's passenger reached her ears.

"For Christ's sake you fools! Stop messing around with the girl and fix my carriage! I must reach Nottingham by nightfall."

"But my lord…"

"Just leave her, someone else will find her sooner or later."

Crouched in the bushes, it suddenly struck Will that Evie had not simply provided a distraction – she had also told the outlaws what kind of man they were dealing with. One who would willingly leave an unconscious girl by the side of the road.

"Here, she got a purse on her?" Seizing the moment, Evie abruptly grasped the hand that had started to make its way between the gap of her cloak, and her eyes flew open.

"No, I'm afraid she hasn't," she said, looking straight up into the soldiers confused face, before raising an elbow and slamming it straight into his stomach.

The soldier, taken by surprise at the sheer force more than anything else, fell back onto his heels, keeling over. As the others turned, startled, the outlaws took their cue and sprung from apparently no where, rapidly surrounding the carriage and soldiers. Evie sprung to her feet, neatly catching the sword Djaq threw over to her, backing away and completing the encasing circle. The element of surprise swiftly disappearing, the soldiers drew their swords, as the fur clad man shifted back to his carriage, before finding Little John's staff blocking his way, the man himself silently, menacingly, shaking his head.

His bow taut, Robin grinned. It was his way of catching his target off guard – whereas John would terrify them, Robin would simply beam. He was proud to say it almost always worked, giving him the vital few seconds in which to gain the upper hand.

"All right gents, nothing to worry about. We're just curious as to what you might be carrying in that nice carriage of yours." When he was greeted with nothing but stony silence, he continued. "You see, the good people of Nottingham aren't faring too well at the moment, so any…donations…" he let the word hang in the air "…would be greatly appreciated."

Drawing himself up to his height and puffing out his chest, the fur clad looked pointedly down his nose at first Robin, then Allan to his side.

"I don't think so. I am Lord Godfrey de Havilend and I have no intention of cooperating with filthy brigands. Besides, I think you'll find you are outnumbered." With a nod of his head, his soldiers launched into their attack. Allan sighed resignedly. Here was he hoping for an easy day. Drawing his sword, he sent it clanging over a soldiers head almost without thinking. He paused, watching Will catch a soldier unawares with the end of his axe. Muttering to himself, he plunged into the fray. "Of all the bloody carriages to ambush…"

Outnumbered at least two to one as they were, the outlaws weren't some of the most feared in the north for nothing, and now had another, skilled, sword in their midst. In no time, they had dispensed with several soldiers, leaving them lying incapacitated on the dusty ground. Even while fending off a particularly vicious soldier, Evie could appreciate how well the gang worked together. They all seemed to know what each other was likely to do at any given moment and seamlessly assisted each other, the different fighting mehods complementing each other perfectly. Allan and Will, who found themselves back to back, circled by three soldiers, Allan jeering them on loudly, Will silent and deadly. Djaq, noticing just in time as a soldier approached John and slicing at his knees, leaving John able to knock another out with a single blow. But the soldiers were clearly well trained and efficient, and it was a hard fight, despite the outlaw's abilities.

In the midst of the chaos, de Havilend backed up to his carriage and scrambled inside. Robin turned just in time to see him disappear and bounded over, ducking as a sword swung above him, shouting his thanks to Much who had seen it just in time and engaged the offending soldier himself. Wrenching the carriage door open, sword primed, his brow furrowed as his eyes fell upon something he had not expected to see.

In the close confines of the carriage, Robin could see de Havilend in more detail. Clearly well fed judging by his size, and vain by the number of rings on his fleshy fingers, he seemed exactly the sort of man Robin could not abide. A sheet of sweat glistened on the man's skin despite the chill, and his small eyes were almost lost in the folds of his face. But there was only one thing preventing Robin from moving.

Clutched between his bejewelled fingers, with a sharp knife at his throat was a young boy. Silent tears rolled down the child's face as Robin stared in shock, and de Havilend grinned.

"Out. And call your men off." A trickle of blood appeared on the boy's throat and Robin lowered his sword, backing out the door. Clearly, this man wasn't bluffing.

Back in the piercing sunlight, Robin couldn't help a small tug of smug pride as he saw every soldier either on the ground or weaponless.

"Lads…." Followed by de Havilend with the boy still in his grasp, the outlaws didn't need to hear the rest. Seeing the boy, they mimicked their leader, reluctantly laying their weapons on the ground, their hands raised in surrender. An air of desperation surrounded de Havilend upon seeing all of his retinue incapacitated. He may have a child in his hands but he had no men and no idea of how far the outlaw's mercy would extend. They'd lain down arms, but they were outlaws. And outlaws, as a general rule, were not known for their extensive compassion. So he was still at a disadvantage, and the outlaws knew it.

There was a moment of silence as each side considered this stalemate of sorts and grasped their bearings. Bearings which, as was immediately noticed by the outlaws, did not include Evie. Robin took a tentative step towards de Havilend but he shrunk back, his grasp around the boy's throat visibly tightening.

"Stay where you are, or he dies. I mean it! Surely even _outlaws_" he spat the word out with disgust, "have hearts." His hands out, Robin edged slowly towards him.

"We'll withdraw, just don't hurt the boy." De Havilend snorted, his grip still tight round the boy's neck. Djaq noticed with growing concern that the boy's lips were slowly but surely turning blue. Forget the knife – if the man did not loosen his grip soon, there would be no boy to save.

"What makes you think I give a damn about the boy?"

Without warning, his piggy eyes widened, his mouth slackened and his grip on the boy's neck loosened. It took only a split second for the gang to recognise the signs, before he dropped the child completely, sank heavily to his knees and fell forward, a knife protruding from his back. The little boy scurried unnoticed back to the carriage as the outlaws, as one, looked from the lifeless body on the ground, up to an embankment behind him, on which stood Evie. Stony eyed, she stood stock still for a moment, the growl of the wind the only noise to be heard, before looking directly at her brother.

"A man who threatens children is no man at all." she said simply.


End file.
